The Promise of a New Journal

I’ve been feeling a bit mixed up lately.  Lots of Big Thoughts going through my head.  Thoughts about home, life, children, education, religion.  You know, the little things.

Sometimes when I feel a bit scrambled and need to think or just vent, I reach for my journal.  Only this time I pulled out my journal and as I flipped through its pages, I was overwhelmingly overcome with how awful some of the things written in my journal were.  I’ve always seen my journal as a place where I can “let it all hang out” so to speak.  But this was just bad.  I read through some of it thinking, “this isn’t even me anymore.”  How could I possibly write in such a space?

Now that I am trying really hard to “use it up, wear it out, make do, or go without,” I told myself I would have to go on in that book.  But I simply could not bring myself to write in that journal.  And this is not the first time I have done this.  I have several unfinished journals in my home.  But I came to the realization that it’s okay to let go of an old journal.  I try to think of each book as a different chapter in my life.

So I bought a new Moleskine.  How I love these books. This time I vowed to let my journal be about me.

I took it home and gave the front page a wash of vibrant yellow.  And I placed on it a simple message to myself.

Hope.